An army of spiders controls my bathroom. They aren't goofy or spindly legged, and they don't build webs. No, these spiders are like the S.S. men of the animal kingdom: beefy, slow, and ugly. A normal kid would stay the hell away from a bathroom where those little monsters crawled around, even if it meant peeing into empty Evian bottles. But me? I'd spend days in there if I could.

The bathroom-more specifically, the grainy old shower-is the only place in the universe where I'm free indulge in fantasies of Kouji without the bloodshed that accompanied actually trying anything with him. This room is my paradise, despite the pest problem. One of those spiders could be sucking out my blood right now and I wouldn't notice. I'm too full with memories of him. His willowy body and brooding face are stamped onto the back of my eyelids with scorching ink. I'd never forget that face. Godzilla wouldn't stand a chance against those big blue eyes.

I fell hard for him in the Digital World. No surprise he didn't notice-he had a ton on his mind. So I played the supporting role: always beside him as his best friend, confidant, partner in battle. In an attempt to control my schoolkid crush, I convinced myself that I could find a trillion guys and girls more attractive back on Earth. Kouji's gorgeousness wouldn't be as powerful when I could distract myself with the countless thousands of beautiful people in Tokyo, right?

Imagine my horror when I returned home and found that absolutely no one measured up to Kouji. Duh. In my twelve-year-old desperation, I'd lost track of why I wanted him. In truth, his foxiness is just a bonus. I want him for what he means to me. For all that we've been through. For all the times I almost died saving him, and all the times he almost died saving me. For all our arguments that ended with the same quiet apology, all the nights he slept with his head against my chest, pressing close to me to keep warm, all the grumpy mornings he spent silently daring me to just try and tell another soul that we'd cuddled (he hates that word, but it's the truth) the night before.

I pictured him in my mind: angry, cold, and beautiful like always, just the way I want him. Under the fall of the shower, my right hand closes around my penis. Cortez wanted glory and gold with the same strength that I want Kouji. I'm out to conquer, make him mine completely. I want with more passion than most people, the need burning inside me like a fever, which explains my flame spirit. Kouji's at the heart of the fire, the fever dream that drives me delirious. Like Zephyrmon, he's overwhelming and unearthly, a creature not meant to roam around in the human world.

Despite that, Kouji does a lot of roaming. Kouji likes boys, and boys love Kouji. He grew out of his preteen discomfort and is more than happy to be touched…so long as I'm not the one touching him. We're still best friends, but he's drawn an icy line to make sure we never went farther. Other than the Digital World nights, the closest I've come to him was the day I showed up at unannounced at his apartment just as he was halfway out the door on his way to a date. He looked so good I felt sick. I stared. I barely comprehended our conversation. I was too busy wishing for more eyes.

"Damn," I said (I couldn't help it!) as he closed the apartment door behind him. We stood in the hallway, not knowing what to do.

I drank in the effect of his body in a tight shirt. He'd ditched his bandana, and his hair was tied back low at the base of his neck. "Hot date?"

"Yeah. Sorry we can't hang out," he said, guessing the reason I'd been at his door. We left the building together.

"So where're you and your boyfriend off to?" I asked him. We discovered we were going the same direction, and walked along the sidewalk at a lazy pace. The night was soggy and hot for springtime. Sleepy insects whispered to each other across the silent road as we passed.

"His house."

'Jealous as all hell' didn't even begin to describe how that little tidbit made me feel. Trying to get under his skin, I played innocent, "What're you gonna do-"

"Takuya," he warned, seeing right through me.

"You look incredible."

Kouji didn't answer, but his face told me all I needed to know. He kept his eyes on the path ahead, pissed that I would cross the line that kept us apart. I could hear the wheels turning in his head as he tried to think of a way to back me off without being an asshole.

I didn't give him the chance.

"Why aren't we a couple?"

"Because you've never asked me out."

I knew the answer was far from that simple, still "Fine, then. Do you want to go out?"

"No," came the immediate answer. I couldn't believe he'd baited me like that, just for fun. What balls! I resisted the urge to hit him. "I've got a boyfriend," he explained.

"But what if you weren't dating him?"

"I'd probably be dating someone else."

I whined shamelessly, "But why not me?"

That dirty sadist was trying his best not to smile, "'Cause you've never asked me out."

"You just want to make me crazy." He nodded in uninterested agreement and reached up to brush rebel strands of black hair back from his face. I caught his hand and twined my fingers with his.

Kouji sighed, exasperated, "Do you ever listen?"

"No."

"You really think you want to be just another one of the guys I date? I'm closer to you as my friend than I am to any of them."

"Yeah, but they get to make out with you," I reasoned. He pulled his hand away from mine. I don't think he was offended, but my comment sent him off into his own world. We hardly talked during the rest of our walk. Pitiful, disappointing, and vaguely embarrassing that night was the closest we'd ever come to…well, anything.

I want all of him: his smile (however rare), his soul, his body, his virginity (however ridiculously longgone), his heart, mind, life, breath. In reality, all I can do is want. In my dreams, though, he's all mine.

I don't want; I have.

As long as I'm dreaming, he's with me now. With spiders watching curiously from all corners, we tangle together in the shower. He's warm, hot. The bathroom reeks of the blueberry shampoo he uses on his hair (as if Kouji would ever let a mortal see him with his hair down). Kissing him is a messy event with the water finding our lips together, running into our mouths.

Kissing Kouji would be frightening, wonderful, hotter than words can describe. To experience the pair of us caught in an identical state of wanting more and more, hesitantly testing for permission to go further. I've never kissed anyone in the ways I want to kiss Kouji.

Of course, nothing's ever going to happen. He's too unmistakably perfect for me to have, too experienced for me to please, too independent for me to keep to myself. He'd be disappointed, meanwhile I'd be imploding with pleasure. That's a dangerous combination for both of us. So for now-forever-jerking off in the shower, captured in fantasies of trapping his wet body against the tiles, will serve.

But, shit, to hear him scream for me and cling so close like he can't survive without me inside of him…that would make me a truly happy kid. I'd be complete. Funny how I used to be a meat-n'-potatoes kind of guy, and now I spend my free time scripting steaming fantasies about nailing my best friend. Naturally, I blame him.

I wonder what Kouji dreams about. Of all the boys that have come and gone, which ones still tempt him to remember their night(s) together. What, exactly, does Kouji reminisce about? Personalities? Looks? Skill? Does he remember everything exactly how it happened with clinical accuracy? Or does he care enough to reflect?

Has he ever let himself slip and considered sex with me?

Now, that'd be hot.

I hope he gives himself nosebleeds imagining all the things I want to do to him. He's never needed someone the way I need him right now. That much is obvious. My come runs swiftly down the drain. I collapse against the wall, sending a few spiders running in panic. I can't escape Kouji. He haunts me everywhere: the most beautiful and scary person I've known. Tempting, untouchable, inviting, distant. Kouji would have me wrapped around his finger with one goddamned kiss.

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